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It’s extremely cold out, snowing even, or at least it had been earlier. Jiung has the wrong shoes on to be walking around on the wetness of snow that had accumulated throughout the day. Every step he takes, he can feel his feet absorbing the weather, a thin layer of ice forming around his shoes. This was the result of stepping into several small puddles of icy water gifted to the pavement by snowfall.
The last shred of warmth within Jiung’s body is all being directed into one area. His hand is hidden in his coat pocket, clutching a small box; partly his grip tightens because of his fear of tripping and the box going flying, partly because he’s been debating whether or not he should do this at all. By the end of the day, he’s sure his hand would be cramping.
This damned snow was not a part of his plan, and it was seriously throwing him off. After getting up early, successfully sneaking out of Keeho’s dead weight, making his boyfriend breakfast, he opened the window to see what he hoped would be clear skies. Instead, he was greeted with just short of a blizzard. All he could do was stand before the window in disbelief.
He had brought Keeho a plate to bed. “Honey, wake up,” Jiung said softly.
Keeho had tiredly shuffled into a sitting position, then accepted the plate. “I was wondering where you went,” he said.
“It’s snowing,” Jiung informed.
Keeho took a sip out of the freshly brewed coffee, “It’s really winter now.” Keeho set the mug down on the nightstand near the bed. “Christmas is soon,” he smiled.
“Let’s go out today,” Jiung stated. Keeho nodded, a slight suspicion present in his eyes, probably starting to realize Jiung had some sort of underlying agenda. Though Jiung was thankful that Keeho didn’t voice any of those suspicions, he’s not sure he would have been able to hide the truth for long if he had.
Besides the snow, the bigger issue in the morning had been that Jiung hadn’t considered how he was going to get the box into his pocket. As he watched Keeho pick out clothes from their shared closet, it was only then that he realized they typically changed in the same room, meaning there wasn’t a secretive way to put the sacred box into his pocket. Knowing that Keeho could turn around at any moment, Jiung attempted to be silent as he tiptoed around the room to where he had hidden the box.
“Babe, what should I wear?” Keeho asked.
Jiung’s entire body shook; he was thankful to see that Keeho hadn’t turned around, but his heart still felt close to stopping. “Ah. Something fancy, we’ll go to a nice restaurant later.”
“A fancy restaurant? All of a sudden?” His tone made it clear, he definitely knew something was up. Jiung slipped the velvet box into his coat pocket.
In the present, the two of them walked around in comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for Keeho, who seems giddy as ever, and uncomfortable for Jiung who was somehow sweating despite the freezing weather. Jiung’s other hand, which didn’t hold the box, dangled on his side, Jiung too nervous to notice the skin of his forgotten hand was becoming slightly pink from the exposure. Keeho reached over, still quiet, intertwining their fingers. Jiung instinctively looks up at Keeho, whose smile is so gentle, whose face is flushed, and who is just as cold as Jiung is. The breath that slips through Keeho’s smile creates fog that vanishes into the rest of the frozen atmosphere. Jiung simply stares, maybe because he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. Their breathing is visible, combining within the windy flow of fog which seems to resemble something that hasn’t happened yet. The combination of themselves, displayed so clearly, hanging on to newly fallen snowflakes and icicles. If Jiung tightens his grip any more, the box will surely be broken to pieces.
The walk to the restaurant is complemented by Christmas decorations and small conversations between the couple. Jiung analyzes every decoration carefully, his true excitement for Christmas shining through. Keeho makes sure to point out all of the lights or statues Jiung doesn’t comment on first, making sure that Jiung is seeing every Christmas-related object nearby.
There’s a statue of a gingerbread man, Keeho points out. “Look, isn’t he so cute?”
“We should get more decorations,” Jiung replies.
Keeho nods, “We should.”
Just before reaching the restaurant, there is an exceedingly large pine tree, with lights strung across, ornaments sporadically placed across its branches.
“I bet this is beautiful at nighttime,” Keeho says.
“We can come back,” Jiung offers, as if that wasn’t part of his plan from the start.
Keeho responds excitedly, “I’ll bring my camera next time.” Jiung nods.
The couple, hands still hanging between them, finally make it to the restaurant. Jiung walks over to the counter, “I have a reservation under Choi Jiung.”
“Oh, I see. Right this way, sir.” The host begins leading the two to their table after grabbing two menus.
“A reservation? Who are you?” Keeho whisper-yelled. Jiung shrugs, a grin on his face.
The host presents their table with a hand extended, “This is your booth.”
“Thank you,” Keeho and Jiung say in sync. Unlatching their hands, the two of them sit across from one another.
The host places the two menus down on the table. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Would you like me to take your coats?”
Keeho’s mouth is hung open in shock at the formality of this all. Jiung giggles a bit before answering, “I’m ok.”
Keeho slips his coat off, handing it to the host, “Thank you.” The host takes the coat with a smile and leaves the table.
“I didn’t think you meant this fancy.” Keeho whisper-yells again.
Jiung laughs, “Honestly, I didn’t know they would do that.”
“You’re still cold?” Keeho questions.
“Ah? No,” Jiung answers.
“Why didn’t you take your coat off then?” Keeho persists.
Jiung becomes hyper-aware of the box he was still clinging to. He wasn’t going to propose in the restaurant, but he couldn’t risk losing this box, so there was no way he would be handing this coat to someone. “Well, I am a little cold.” Keeho squints. Jiung starts to flip through the menu anxiously. “I hope they have kodari-jjim.”
“Jiung, we have lived in Canada for five years. And this is an Italian restaurant.”
Jiung tries to change focus, “What are you getting?”
Keeho opens the menu and scans it for a moment, “Mmm. Cacio e pepe.” Jiung nods.
“I think I’ll just get spaghetti.” Jiung smiles, probably too widely.
The host comes back in perfect timing, setting down two glasses of water, saving Jiung from digging himself into a hole. Jiung leaves his hand open to receive Keeho’s menu, then hands them to their host. “Ready to order?” They both nod, and Jiung lets Keeho order first.
The dinner was nice. Jiung can barely focus on it, though, knowing that his plan was approaching the main event soon. At some point, after the host had somehow realized the two were in fact a couple, and now a taper candle sat atop the table space between them, burning brightly in contrast to how dark it was throughout the restaurant itself. Jiung has to assume that it must’ve been due to how he must be looking at Keeho. It wasn’t his fault that Keeho was in his nicest suit, and Jiung was holding a wedding ring in his pocket. He hadn’t even proposed, yet Keeho looked like it was their wedding day with that suit.
“You look handsome too.” Keeho teases, clearly picking up on Jiung’s intense stare.
“Thank you,” Jiung replies sheepishly.
The food is good, as it should be for how much Jiung was paying. Not that he cared about the money particularly, but he did, at the bare minimum, expect the food to be good. As he signs the check, that’s when things start to become real. Keeho retrieves his coat, and then they are on their way.
One foot out the door, and his defrosted shoes begin to harden again. Jiung thinks his steps must be loud, if his thoughts weren’t louder. Inching painfully close towards the large tree they saw earlier. Most of the snow has dissolved by now, Jiung notes. Puddles upon puddles. Jiung wishes that he might melt too.
“Jiung, is something going on?” Keeho finally asks.
Jiung stops dead in his tracks, “...No?”
“You’re not like… hiding anything?” Keeho pushes.
“Let’s just… walk a bit more,” Jiung finalizes. Keeho reaches for Jiung’s hand as he had earlier, but this time Keeho’s hand is noticeably warm.
The tree is certainly more beautiful at night. The lights hugging the branches are white like the snow that had been on the ground earlier, the ornaments illuminated by the glow of those bright lights that mimic the cold. It was dark enough that there are stars as well, Jiung almost wants to sit down and count them all alongside Keeho, though if they do, they might be there forever.
Forever.
“Keeho,” Jiung forces himself to say. Fighting against his own cowardice desperately.
Keeho’s fixation on the lights is forgotten; he faces Jiung immediately. “Jiung?” he replies, concern apparent in his voice and face.
The floor is wet, and Jiung knows leaning down will surely leave his pants drenched. His pants might have to defrost, even, just like his shoes would have to. Disregarding it all, he leans down anyway. He can feel the water seep through the cloth on his knee as soon as it touches the ground. It’s so damn cold he can feel it begin to harden into ice. As if he were an icicle statue himself, he’s tense, in a perfect proposal position. Stiffly moving his cramped hand outside of his pocket, he couldn’t tell the difference between the shaking of nervousness and the shiver of chilly fog blowing onto the back of his neck.
Keeho’s eyes welled up more water to add to the endless puddles. Even though neither of them has said anything. Even though Jiung hasn’t even proposed yet. Even though it’s freezing, this frozen night needed no more water to create one more damned icicle. Keeho was crying.
“Will you marry me?” Jiung proposes. The ring he had saved up for months for, the ring he had hidden for months, now on display, the moon, stars, and Christmas lights bouncing off of the crystal.
“Jiung…” Keeho says dryly, tears actively streaming down his face. Keeho chokes on his own sobbing, “This is what you were hiding from me?”
Jiung, unsure of whether or not it’s acceptable to stand normally, stays frozen in place. “Keeho, I seriously want to marry you,” he adds.
“Yes.” Keeho nods vigorously, but he still continues to whine, “Now get up from the ground.”
Jiung stiffly stands, hesitantly grabbing Keeho, who was now shaking more than Jiung himself, and placing the ring onto Keeho’s finger. Keeho is crying so hard at this point that his eyes aren’t even open to see the ring. Jiung places the empty ring box into his pocket and with no longer feeling the need to desperately cling onto the box, places his hands on either side of his fiancé’s face. Keeho’s face, becoming a part of this cold, his tear droplets shining on his skin like a layer of ice. Jiung wipes it all away, carefully, slowly. Keeho’s eyes open again, and their faces are so close, neither of them could say who leaned in first when they would retell the story of how Jiung proposed.
Much like everything else that day, Keeho’s lips are cold. Jiung wonders if Keeho is having that same thought. Keeho grabs Jiung’s hands and places them around his waist inside of his coat, seemingly a confirmation that Jiung’s lips are in fact just as cold.